


met with silence

by loumillerlesbian



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Cancer Arc, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 06:57:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15213662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loumillerlesbian/pseuds/loumillerlesbian
Summary: Mulder and Scully and a whole lot of unspoken thoughts.





	met with silence

**Author's Note:**

> I've really been wanting to get writing again (for Ocean's 8, if I'm honest, because that movie is so damn good), but I felt like I needed to finally put this out before starting anything new.  
> This was originally written as homework for my English class because I didn't participate in a group discussion (my role was Trump supporter so yeah) and our teacher gave us about ten words to fit into a short story. Not all of them are in here but it was okay because I still wrote more than everyone else who had to do it.  
> And yes, I actually submitted X-Files fanfic as my homework.  
> This is un-beta-ed and also slightly re-worked because I felt the original ending was too abrupt, so some parts may be a bit chaotic and I might make some small improvements later on.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

The sun was slowly setting behind the mountains, bathing the landscapes in a golden glow. Mulder glanced sideways at his partner, the only person who would follow him to the ends of the earth - if only after declaring just how ridiculous his theories were. He felt his heart ache at the sight of her; she seemed so relaxed, so careless in her sleep, with the day’s last rays of sunshine playing across her features and a smile on her lips.  
He would have liked to believe that he was the reason she was smiling, that somehow, she had felt him watching her in her sleep, but he knew better. He had put her through so much; it was a miracle that she could still smile at all.

As he pulled up outside the only motel in Parrott, VA, about two hours later, it was completely dark. The only light came from the blinking neon sign over the door, which didn’t exactly make the small building look any more inviting. With a sigh, Mulder opened the car door and got out of the vehicle, relieved to be able to move his legs again after hours of driving. He got their bags out of the trunk first before moving to the other side of the car and opening the door, already regretting that he had to wake his calmly sleeping partner. Of course, he could have always carried her, but he knew better. Also, it probably would have seemed somewhat weird to the owner of the motel; not that he cared about appearances, but still.  
Instead, Mulder tapped her shoulder to wake her, but to no avail. Cautiously, he moved his hand to lightly tickle her sides; a foolproof way to wake her, as he had discovered early on in their partnership.  
The method didn’t fail him now, either, as Scully woke with a start, reflexively clamping her arms down to stop Mulder from tickling her again. “Sorry”, he mumbled, willing himself not to grin as she glared at him, her lips pressed together in an annoyed pout. Scully unfastened her seatbelt and got out of the car, picking up her bag from where Mulder had set it down. Only when she kicked the car door shut and began to walk towards the motel did Mulder pick up his own bag and follow her.  
He caught the motel door she hadn’t bothered to hold open for him just before it could shut in his face, and he grinned to himself at the thought that his ever-professional Scully could be so petty.  
The jingle of the bell on the door effectively alerted the desk clerk who had fallen asleep over his copy of the playboy magazine, which he now scrambled to hide under the desk. Scully saw it nevertheless and sighed, not for the first time in recent years wishing for more inviting places to stay in.  
Mulder, who, as always, acted oblivious to any shortcomings of the motel, approached the clerk and placed his bag on the floor, announcing cheerfully that they’d like two rooms for the night, maybe longer. Keeping herself from rolling her eyes at that last part, Scully managed to maintain a neutral expression despite vowing to herself that if he asked her to stay any longer than a day, she would have to kill him. She could always make his body disappear and blame it on that monster they were supposedly chasing… 

Her contemplations on how to get away with murdering her partner were interrupted by that very partner poking her side yet again, requesting her attention. She nearly screamed out loud when Mulder told her that there was only one room left, waggling his eyebrows at her as he mused that the monster was attracting a fan base.  
This was by far the last thing Scully needed right now, after being dragged out on a case a bare five minutes before a well-deserved weekend by an overenthusiastic Mulder who was now going to get on her nerves even before bombarding her with his most ridiculous theories in the morning. Inhaling deeply, she nodded, signaling Mulder to grab the key off the counter and lead the way to their room. 

“I’ll take the floor”, he announced as he opened the door to their sparsely furnished room, noting at first glance that it didn’t contain the couch he had hoped for. They both entered the room and deposited their bags beside the queen-sized bed that Scully flopped down on, kicking off her shoes right after. “Don’t be ridiculous, Mulder”, she mumbled into the pillow, lifting her head from it to look at her partner. “It’s not like we haven’t had to share a bed before.”  
He knew that this was different, that he had become worried about her, more so than before she had gotten sick. He didn’t want to take any space on the bed from her, despite being the only one with a desk in their shared office. He didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable by his closeness, despite them constantly invading each other’s personal space without a second thought.  
She knew it, too, it was painfully obvious how much he cared for her, how much he wanted to protect her from anything – yet how could he protect her from something within her? She cringed at the thought, not willing to accept that she might need help.  
When she sat back up on the bed, she felt his eyes on her, practically boring holes into the back of her head. She got up, her first instinct to escape his questioning eyes, that sad, ‘are you okay’ look he’s been opting for lately instead of asking her outright, because he knew she would never admit to being anything but ‘fine’.  
She knew that he would be able to see right through her, so she kept her eyes fixed on the bathroom door as she walked over and only relaxed a little once she closed the door behind her, hoping to escape not only his questioning eyes but also the possibility of him actually asking her. Lying to his face simply wasn’t something she was looking for tonight, even less for the inevitable confrontation that would ensue once she did insist on being alright.  
Because she knew that he would always see through her thinly veiled lies and yet, she couldn’t bring herself to just tell him. There was something strangely comic about it, about not telling the truth to the man who had been chasing it his entire life, yet it was impossible for her to laugh about it. She had seen far too often what the pursuit of that truth had done to him, how it had hurt him. Even with these feelings of guilt, she still lied to him, and he still kept searching for the truth.  
Rubbing her eyes in front of the mirror, she was once again shocked at the sight of her reflection. Months ago, the woman looking back at her would have been equally tired but with rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes – now, she was just tired. Her pale skin almost matched the pale walls and her eyes seemed dull, even in the dazzling lights of the bathroom.  
She reached into her toiletries bag without looking, knowing what to reach for from far too many trips over the past months. Her fingers grabbed the small box and held it into the light to read the label. With the confirmation of its content, Scully opened the box and placed two of the pills in her hand before taking a gulp of water from the faucet and swallowing the pills with it. 

She looked at the box again, those useless meds her doctor prescribed that she took diligently every day, knowing they would not help, that they were not made to fight whatever had caused her cancer, that they could barely diminish the symptoms. And she knew that whether or not she took the pills, she would feel the pain nagging at her, could feel the cancer claw at her strength, much like its animal namesake; telltale signs of her imminent death, yet always reminding her that she was alive with every flash of pain she felt.  
But it comforted Mulder to know that she was doing something, anything, to fight it, and what hadn’t she already done for that man. Sometimes, she wondered what her life might have been like had she not been assigned to him, but ultimately, she could never imagine anything other than this, the constant road trips across the country, chasing aliens and monsters and elusive powerful conspirators.  
This was nothing but just another one of their ridiculous cases, she told herself, absentmindedly brushing her teeth and staring into the mirror. Nothing but the search for a mysterious monster in the woods, nothing they hadn’t had to deal with before. Before the cancer.

But this was different, and as they both lay down later, on opposite sides of the bed, as far from each other as the blanket would allow, they both knew it.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!


End file.
